Thursday, July 29, 2010

Argh! So here I am, trapped between a rock and a hard place in the ninth inning of a tie ballgame against the evil Fortunate Friar. He's getting away, roughly about six full steps ahead of me, with the possibility of it increasing to seven full steps. If I can only...reach...my utility belt...

There, I got it. So there are two weapons on my utility belt left unused, primed, and ready for action. One is a potent magnum which can be unreliable at times but still packs a powerful punch. The other is a toy capgun with no useful value whatsoever, an item which I had actually tried to take off my belt altogether, but somehow it has stuck around without rationale for the last four months, continuing to suck wind in a toxic, nuclear-implosion type of way. Which one should I use to try and catch my enemy, who is on the precipice of slipping out of my grasp once and for all?

...I guess I'll choose the unreliable capgun, and just hope for the best. Yeah, that makes a lot of sense. ... ... Hmm...it seems that the Fortunate Friar is just...walking off?

I was drinking my white wine spritzer, and listening to the adult contemporary dedication hour like any night after a Dodgers loss and I heard the soft spoken heavily medicated DJ say the Dodgers dedicated this song to us fans.

Pete Cetera Hard to say I am sorry..... Everybody needs a little time awayI've heard her sayFrom each other

Even lovers need a holiday ooohFar away from each other

Hold me nowIt's hard for me to say I'm sorryI just want you to stayAnd after all that you've been throughI will make it up to youI promise you, baby.

i've seen it time and time again. Our bats get sick after a long series at home, then we go to SD where they get the grippe, then we go to another, normal park. We may have a hard time hitting tonight but we will get well again by games 2 and 3. I hope our pitching can keep up its good health

No not Chicago. Today is a new day. Let's think positive. : I'm liking the lyrics from this old Chumbawumba song. Excerpts

I get knocked downBut I get up againYou're never going to keep me downPissing the night awayPissing the night awayHe drinks a whisky drinkHe drinks a vodka drinkHe drinks a lager drinkHe drinks a cider drinkHe sings the songs that remind himOf the good timesHe sings the songs that remind himOf the better times:"Don't cry for meNext door neighbour..."I get knocked downBut I get up againYou're never going to keep me downWe'll be singingWhen we're winningWe'll be singing